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“Coming onto the pitch to face powerful Man City is AFC Richmond. Thoughts on their chances?” Arlo asks his fellow commentator.
“Considering Man City are first in the ranks right now and Richmond was less then ten points off relegation last season…” Chris responds. “I don’t do predictions, but I predict Man City will win.”
“Richmond just have not shown signs of life in years Chris. Some are calling them the most mediocre team in the premier league.” Arlo says.
“You have to blame the coaching style. Cartrick is a well respected man but when you have a team playing the same tactics over and over, you can’t blame the players for losing.” Chris states.
Richmond lose the game, easily. 4-1. It could have been 4-2 if Jamie had passed to Dani for once instead of going for glory himself (not that there was much glory after the ball bounced off the goalpost). There’s not much of an upset in the arena, even for a home game. The number of fans is slowly dwindling and even those who are still dedicated to the team don’t expect wins anymore.
“That was fucking embarrassing!” Cartrick yells at the team the second they fill in the locker room. “We’ve been practicing those plays over and over. Do I have to get on the fucking pitch myself to get a goal?”
“The other team knew exactly where we were going to be the entire time.” Richard sighs. “It was impossible to get around them.”
“Maybe because we’ve been doing the same plays for three fucking seasons.” Jamie mutters under his breath.
“Do you have something to say Tartt?” Cartrick asks, his voice loud and angry.
“Well when you run the same trick play every single game, the trick bit doesn’t really work anymore.” Jamie sighs.
“Didn’t know you were the fucking coach!” Cartrick threw his clipboard at the young player. It thankfully bounced off the locker next to him. “Have another fucking idea?”
“No, sorry Coach.” Jamie says, defeated.
“Practice. 7am tomorrow. You better all show up and prove to me why you fucking belong on this team.” With that, Cartrick turned and locked himself into his office.
Jamie tried to act like none of what he did mattered. Pretend he was just some crazy gaffer that Jamie and all the guys were stuck with. But every time he looked at Cartrick, he saw his dad. His actions, his words, hell he even looked a bit like James Sr. It was fucking scary sometimes.
“Um can I have your kit please Jamie?” The kitman asks (Noah? Neil? Nate? Jamie thinks Nate). Jamie doesn’t answer, just takes off his kit and throws it in his general direction. Whether he catches it or not, Jamie doesn’t know. Doesn’t care.
“Colin? Your kit please?” Jamie faintly hears in the background.
“Yeah um sure Nate.” Colin replies quiet.
Jamie doesn’t typically involve himself in team affairs but Colin’s a good lad. They hang out often, with Issac typically, play FIFA or go to pubs. Sometimes they act more like his worshippers than friends but still, they’re the closest thing to mates that he has. Colin being quiet and nice to Nate? It’s weird.
“Alright mate?” Jamie asks. The rest of the team had already cleared out and Cartrick was clearly getting pissed in his office and wouldn’t care less about their conversation.
“Um just.. relationship problems.” Colin answers, vague.
“Well uh.. what’s going on?” Jamie asks, his words foreign to him.
“Jamie are we close? Like actually close?” Colin says, white as a sheet.
“Lad, you’re scaring me…” Jamie begins, almost jokingly, but his voice falters when he sees the concern on Colin’s face.“Yeah we’re mates.”
“I’ve been seeing this person for a while and I like them Jamie, like really like them. But they’ve been acting all weird and now they’re threatening to go to the press with pictures and… I don’t fucking know what to do.” Colin buries his face in his hands. He was clearly stressed about this.
“What to the press about?” Do you have a tramp stamp or four balls or something? Jamie resists the urge to add that last part. Colin’s face has made it clear that there’s no room for jokes.
“Jamie….” Colin looks up, unsure if he wants to continue. “The person I’m dating is a fella.”
“You can’t say that. Not here.” Jamie immediately replies. When Colin’s face falls, he adds more. “It’s fine to me. As long as you’re still passing to me, it’s whatever. But if Cartrick hears you talking like that…”
”I’ll be out on my ass.”
”Not even. He’ll just do what he did to Sam after the whole DubaiAir thing. Bench you until you leave.” Jamie never liked Sam too much. Overrated by a mile and too optimistic for his own good. Still, he felt a twinge of guilt everytime he saw him on the bench last season. He felt even more guilt that he didn’t stand with him. He’s okay, he’s with West Ham United now and starting every game. Better off there than he ever was at Richmond.
Colin doesn’t respond. Just grabs his things and moves to leave.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” Colin says, his eyes anywhere but on Jamie’s.
“I won’t.” Jamie promises. “And Colin, seems like your bloke’s in it for the money. Just give him more than he’ll get from any presser.”
Colin nods at the advice and then heads out, leaving Jamie alone in the locker room. Last season, Jamie never would have stayed a second longer than he had to. Especially not for a teammate. But when it become clear that Cartrick was not leaving, he began to appreciate little moments with teammates. He wasn’t about to sing kumbaya or grab a drink at the pub after a game, but after Keeley broke up with me, he realized that he didn’t really have anyone. Little moments with the lads showed him that some people cared about him. He just needed to get better at showing them that he cared too. It was fucking hard. Cartrick wasn’t exactly encouraging of it. Once, he stepped out of his box. Got Issac a new barber kit for Secret Santa, a nice one too. Only gift that year that wasn’t booze. Issac loved it and the guys were all fawning over the special features (and how good they would look once Issac used it on them). Cartrick had just scoffed.
What is he? Your fucking boyfriend?
Jamie just bought booze the next year.
—————————————————————
Jamie couldn’t lie, it was a relief when Rupert called him into his office to tell him that Man City wanted him back. At first at least. He was tired of being on a losing team, with a terrible coach (in every form of the word). Man City was top of the world. Jamie belonged on top too.
It was all great until he went to grab his things a few days later and noticed the entire team sitting, silent.
”You’re going to Man City?” Colin asks, breaking the silence.
”They’re recalling me mate.” Jamie began to stuff his clothes into his bag.
“When do you leave to Manchester?” Bumbercatch asks.
”Like..” He checks the clock. “Fifteen minutes.”
“Were you not going to tell us?” Jan Maas says. “Just skip practice and eventually leave?”
“Why would I practice with a team I’m not on anymore?” Jamie says, his voice mean. Makes it easier to leave the team.
”As team captain, I speak for us all when I saw that’s a dick move.” Issac states. The boys nod in agreement. “We wanted to see you bruv!”
“We do not blame you for leaving the team. But you should have told us.” Dani adds.
“We’re a shit team! Shit coach.” Issac says the second part quieter. “We haven’t won in months and we’re probably going to get relegated. The only thing we have is each other.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve signed the contract.” Jamie mutters.
”We’re not asking you to stay.” Richard says. “But we are friends. You’re leaving so fast we never got to say goodbye!”
“Goodbye. There.” Jamie simply states.
”What about the party? We should be celebrating you with fine wine and fine women!” Richard looks truly pained. “This is not a goodbye.”
“What are you on about mate?” Jamie scoffs.
“Jamie, do you really think we don’t know you skipped out on the last practices on purpose? And why you grabbed your stuff an hour after today’s was supposed to end?” Zoreaux says.
”Why’s that?”
”Because you fucking care about us. You do.” Colin answers for him. “You like to pretend you don’t because Cartrick is a dick but you do. I know you do. And you don’t know how to deal with it. Easier to just leave without saying nothing right?”
“I don’t need this.” Jamie grabbed the rest of his stuff. “Bye lads. When Richmond gets relegated, I hope some of you consider careers in psychology. You’re all so fuckin’ good at it.”
“Jamie-” Colin calls after him but he’s already in the car meant to take him to Manchester.
The second the car begins to drive away and Nelson Road slowly goes out of view, he feels like shit. A better Jamie wouldn’t abandon his teammates like that. A better Jamie would have gone to practice and told them he was going back to Man City. The Jamie he wanted to be would have told them.
“Fuck.” He whispers to himself as the car leaves Richmond behind. Promise. I will be a better Jamie.
His time at Richmond made him a better player, so naturally, when he gets back to Man City, he gets more playing time. He finally makes their starting line up. The lads invite him for drinks often, and every now and then, he actually takes them up on it. Some of his best friends come out of that team. Richmond gets relegated, no one is surprised, but it still hurts. A different coach and they could be top of the world. Maybe it will happen, who knows? Cartrick has to retire at some point.
All Jamie does know is that team is full of good fucking lads.